


"Don't try to fix me. I'm not broken."

by Lavender_and_Vanilla



Series: Mystrade Monday Part 2: Flash Fiction [17]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Don't Post To Another Site, Early Days, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, M/M, Mystrade Monday, Working things out, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27681080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_and_Vanilla/pseuds/Lavender_and_Vanilla
Summary: It's early days in their relationship and Mycroft and Greg have a few bugs to work out.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Lestrade
Series: Mystrade Monday Part 2: Flash Fiction [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862299
Comments: 28
Kudos: 131





	"Don't try to fix me. I'm not broken."

The litany started within a week of the start of their dating.

“Gregory, you must try this…”

“Gregory, you must see this…”

“Gregory, this is an experience not to be missed.”

Greg sighed inwardly as Mycroft offered his plate so Greg could sample the lovely fish he’d ordered.

“Yeah, okay.” Greg gamely took a bite of the fish. It was good, but it didn’t make him regret the steak he’d ordered. He made an appreciative noise and rotated the plate back toward Mycroft.

“Isn’t sublime?” Mycroft’s eyes were bright with excitement.

“Mm…” Greg swallowed the bite he’d taken of his steak. “It was really good.” For fish, he amended to himself.

Mycroft tilted his head and scrutinized Greg, then went back to his dinner. “I’ve rarely had fish this good out of sight of the ocean.”

“Does that make a difference?” Greg asked, curious. He gestured at Mycroft’s plate. “That was pretty good.”

“Oh, absolutely!” Mycroft declared. “Fresh seafood is incomparable to that which has been frozen.”

“I’ve never liked fish much,” Greg commented.

“Really? This must be remedied.” Mycroft got that look in his eye that Greg had come to dread.“We should plan a mini break and go to Norfolk. I know a pub there— don’t laugh, I’ve been to a pub or two in my time.”

Greg suppressed a chuckle into his napkin. He cleared his throat. “Of course you have.” He reached over and took Mycroft’s hand. “My?”

“Yes?” Mycroft lifted his gaze from the tangle of fingers. He looked awed and hopeful.

Greg’s heart tightened in his chest at the expression. He needed to be firm, but gentle. “Don’t try to fix me. I’m not broken.”

Mycroft blinked. “Is that what you think I’m trying to do? Fix you?” He sat back and tried to pull his hand away. Greg held fast.

“Look, I know I didn’t have the upbringing you had or the schooling. I haven’t traveled like you have and I don’t mingle with the rich and powerful.” Greg dropped his head trying to catch Mycroft’s downcast eyes. “But I’m happy with who I am.”

Mycroft slowly pulled his hand away and let it drop in his lap. Greg watched it withdraw, feeling the mood in the air change.

“I wasn’t trying to fix you,” Mycroft murmured to his plate.

“Sorry?”

“Apologies.” Mycroft’s voice was cool and calm. He looked up at Greg, blue eyes iced over. “I was not trying to fix you.”

“Okay. Great, then.” Greg watched as Mycroft took a drink from his water glass. After a long silent moment Greg returned to eating his steak. Mycroft pushed the food about his plate and ate nothing more.

The rest of the dinner proceeded in a painfully cordial manner. Greg managed to draw Mycroft into some small talk, but he could tell something had shifted between them. There were no afters or coffee ordered. On the sidewalk outside the restaurant, Mycroft bade Greg goodnight and made his excuses. Early meeting in the morning and he still had some reading to do, he said. Greg found his way home, unhappy and alone.

* * *

He was still puzzling over what happened at dinner the next day. Greg didn’t think he’d said anything wrong or out of line. He was just trying to set some boundaries, before things got out of hand and he grew resentful.

Working was near impossible that day. Greg was having trouble focusing, and when Donovan complained Sherlock hadn’t signed the statement he’d given regarding the last case, Greg volunteered to take it to Baker Street. He needed the distraction.

“There. It’s signed.” Sherlock handed the file back to Greg. It had taken a bit of cajoling from John to get Sherlock to look away from his experiment.

“Thanks, mate.” Greg put the file in his messenger bag. Sherlock went back to his microscope and Greg took it as his cue to leave.

“Why haven’t you asked me what you really want to know?” Sherlock’s voice stopped Greg at the door.

Greg gazed at the ceiling briefly, and turned back. “Why is your brother so concerned with me trying all his favorite foods, watching his favorite films, and listening to his favorite music? We’ve been to see his favorite artists at the National Gallery and to the symphony to hear his favorite composers performed. He even started to plan a mini break to his favorite seaside pub.”

Sherlock looked at John. John looked at Sherlock.

“What?” Greg asked.

“Well it’s obvious, isn’t?” John asked.

Greg rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that he’s trying to make me into something I’m not.”

“No,” said Sherlock. His eyes were fixed back on the slide through the microscope lens.

“No?”

“John,” Sherlock said with exasperation.

“Greg, how many friends do you think Mycroft has had in his life?” John asked.

Greg pursed his lips and thought. Then it dawned on him.

* * *

Greg was sitting on Mycroft’s stoop, when Mycroft arrived home that night.

“Gregory, what are you doing here? Please, come in.” Mycroft opened the door and led them inside.

“I want to apologize,” Greg started after they’d sat in the lounge and drinks had been made.

“For what?”

“Last night.” Mycroft looked quizzically at Greg. “It turns out I am broken.”

“No,” Mycroft said softly. “I’m happy with who you are. I don’t want you to change.”

“Well, I’m not happy with myself,” Greg replied. “Actually, I’m rather upset with myself.”

“Don’t be. I was…”

Greg interrupted. “Just trying to share what you love with me. Only I was too insecure to see that, too worried I wasn’t good enough for you and all the fine things in your life. I became defensive and I hurt your feelings.”

“You’re the finest thing in my life, Gregory,” Mycroft said earnestly. “I only wanted to you to have the very best. I apologize for getting carried away.”

“No more apologies.” Greg took Mycroft’s hand. “We need to take turns spoiling the other. Next time, I’ll take you to my favorite restaurant for dinner. I hear their fish tacos are amazing.”

“Fish tacos?” Mycroft looked dubious.

“I tried your fancy tuna steak.” Greg pointed out.

“Touche.”

Greg leaned in close. “Time to kiss and make up?” He asked hopefully.

“Past time,” Mycroft breathed as he closed the gap.


End file.
